A couple of months ago, I discovered that I had used up my free articles at the Wall Street Journal, but I wanted to read another one for all y’all, so I signed up for their $1-for-two-months free trial. Since then, I have only gone to the site maybe 4 times, so I definitely wanted to cancel it before the $20 for February hit my credit card.
I went to the digital account for my digital subscription that I signed up for digitally, but golly gee whiz, they won’t let you cancel it digitally. I had to call. They don’t even allow email or have a TDY number, so I guess it’s too damn bad if you’re hearing impaired. My hearing is not what it used to be, but my real problem today was that the phone that doesn’t hurt my ears (physical pain, I’m talking here) decided to conk out the very day Dearest left for the Mascots and he won’t be back in time for the WSJ thing.
Thankfully, and I mean that in all sincerity, Mama Buzz keeps me supplied with a cell phone. God bless her! She gave me the phone itself and keeps the account paid; she knows I don’t like to use the phone, but says she’s paying for her own peace of mind. I keep it charged at all times, cuz our landline doesn’t work when the power goes out. And I carry it when I leave the house in case I fall or something.
So anyway (big sigh), I called the stupid WSJ from my ouchy emergency cell phone. And for reasons that totally escape me, not only does the stupid WSJ not let you digitally cancel a digital subscription that you signed up for digitally, but also does not hire IT guys who have any common sense or any customer service people who can spell.
It seems the computer accounts are tied exclusively to the phone number from which you make the call. So if you, like me, are forced to call from a different phone, the customer service person has to, oh gosh, TYPE IN SOME INFORMATION. I told this woman my name AND my street address AND my email, but since they didn’t match the phone number I was calling from, she couldn’t get the account to come up for her. Apparently, the work around is to put in the account email, but the lady was so dim, I had to spell it for her … slowly … FOUR TIMES! It’s the freaking Wall Street Journal! You’d think maybe literacy would be a factor in hiring.
So, FINALLY, she gets my email typed in corrected and FINALLY, she finds my account and, FINALLY asks me what I want. “I want to cancel my account.” Oh, but wait, SHE doesn’t DO cancellations. So she transferred me to another person … who didn’t receive my account information with the call transfer, because I wasn’t using the right phone, so we had to repeat the struggle to get my account to show up for her. Thankfully, she wasn’t quite as dim as the first one and only needed to hear me spell my email address two times. IT’S THE FREAKING WALL STREET JOURNAL. Aren’t they supposed to be one of the “smart” news organs? Pblttttttttttttttttt.
Sigh. So my account is finally canceled, or so she said. I took her name down in case the email confirmation doesn’t arrive and I have to call back and bitch some more. Now my neck is all knotted up and my ears hurt. It’s something on the inside; the cell phone speaker, even when it’s on Speaker and nowhere near my head, makes the inside of my ears burn. I have no idea why.
After all that, I went and checked my Epoch Times digital trial subscription that I signed up for digitally. THAT one I can cancel by email if I want, though I probably won’t. I like it a lot better than the WSJ. Also, the full price ($90/year) is much less than the WSJ ($240/year).
I hope the landline just needs a new battery for the handset. I can hear incoming calls on the answering machine, but I can’t get the handset to turn on so I can answer or call out.